Assorted drabbles of the Fullmetal kind
by White Butterfly
Summary: Assorted drabbles, ficlets, stories, scenarios, pairings and genres from the anime and manga FullMetal Alchemist. Please note rating change because of various... themes. Forty-fifth story: Just one
1. Numbers

**Title:** Numbers

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre: **General, slight romance  
**Rating: **PG

* * *

Winry looked glumly at the figures in front of her. They stood absolutely still on the page, but still made absolutely no sense to her.  
"AH!" She gave an exclamation of frustration and plied her fingers through her hair. She had all the payments going in and out, all the expenses . . . but it still wasn't making any sense.

"Granny, why didn't you tell I'd have to do this when I took over the business!" she whined and let her head be supported by her hands.

Edward and Alphonse would've been good at this sort of thing, although they were best at alchemy, math was part of that. They had always paid attention and given answers at school. She had simply fallen asleep.

"But they're not here!" She let out another cry of frustration and threw the pen to the table. This wouldn't work. Ed and Al were off- off to somewhere she didn't know and Granny had, well she had gone.

She flicked through the sums again, trying one last attempt at figuring out how she was supposed to do these calculations.

She collapsed onto the table.

"Nothing." she grumbled out the side of her mouth that wasn't resting on the table.

The numbers were still glaring at her.

"Hamberton and Co. Smelters, Eastern Bermoth, fifteen thousand cenz for zinc; Glosche mechanical supplies, Central, seven hundred and fifty eight thou-" Winry trailed off listing her expenses. That number, in Central...

"I've got it!" She jumped up from her chair and raced to the phone.  
"Yes, I'd like to make a call to the military headquarters, can you please route me through to line seven-five-eight? Part of the investigations department? Thank you." She stood waiting there, impatient, until a loud click was heard from the handset.

"Scheiska! Listen can, you arrange some off time? I need your help with some of my finances. No, it's not an excuse! It's a reason!" She paused as the other woman several-days-on-a-train away replied and then exploded. "I'm not the only reason you should come over! I seriously need your help! Though maybe," she looked over at the rather slim book of transactions, calming down slightly, "it'll only take a day at the most..." She smiled at the response she got and settled the handset slowly down, before going to flip the book closed.

"Now I just need to change the bed sheets."


	2. How he'll die

**Title:** How he'll die

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** General, romance  
**Rating:** M (ish)  
**Warnings:** Character death, mentions of sex and life in the bedroom, **yaoi** (implied)

I'm sorry to all my friends who know me in real life but I **was** persuaded to write this by Lina.  
And to tell the honest truth I kinda like writing death fics.  
By the way no-one knew they loved each other. Look carefully and you will see I wrote it that way. (Sticks her tongue out at them)

Based on the conversation I had below with Lina of BlackMercifulFaerie.**

* * *

**

Or Roy gets a heart attack from thinking about Ed too much. 

That's true. And the doctors and his friends would say, "We never saw it coming . . ."  
Ed: "Well, I sure as hell did; he was lusting after me, the dirty, old pervert."

Them: He was always fit, shakes head  
Ed, mumbling: Every night he'd practically chase me around the bedroom. He'd better have been fit...  
Them: He hadn't touched a drop of alcohol in YEARS,  
Ed, still mumbling: Yeah, that's because I made him drunk.  
Them: He always seemed relaxed after a weekend at home,  
Ed, still grumbling: Two days of sex does that you know.  
Them: I suppose he just had a weak heart.  
Ed, does a double take: WTF! He loved me! How the hell is that a weak heart!

* * *

Friends and family; mostly the former, had gathered to commemorate the passing of an esteemed officer and comrade.  
They had come to mourn the passing of Lieutenant General Roy Mustang and to offer condolences to his former subordinate, heir and close friend.

"I'm sorry, Edward, I know that you were always at logger heads, but it's still sad. There are some things that even the best defence in the world can't defend." Another life-long friend offered her condolences.  
"Brother..." Ed smiled a bit at how that single word comforted him so much as he watched the two go off together.

He moved towards a corner, sipping his drink as he listened in on all the conversations around him.

"It was so sudden, we never saw it coming."  
"No-one thought the Lieutenant General would die of a heart attack of all things."  
"It was surprising, I mean no-on would've thought.."

Ed murmured into his glass. "Heh, I saw it coming. The bastard was probably lusting after me, the filthy old pervert."

"He passed his last active service exam with flying colours, he was extraordinarily fit for his age."

He tried to contain his laughter as he swallowed._ 'He'd better've been. He'd practically chase me around the bedroom every night.'_

"He never so much touched a bottle of the stuff in all the time I knew him."  
"Don't think he even touched a drop."

"I made him drunk just by being with him." Ed stared at the small reflection of the world in his glass, the ripples slowly fading.

"Never knew a person so lively on a Monday!"  
"I was always surprised when he came back from the weekend and was ready to do stuff. He seemed so full of energy, but yet he was relaxed."

_'Two days of sex makes you pretty damn happy and relaxed.' _Ed downed the last of his drink and went to refill it.

"I suppose, what it really was, is that he had a weak heart."

The sentence cleared the room, seemingly louder than all the other comments.  
"What?" Ed stood in the middle of the room, stunned. "What the fuck? He loved me! How the hell is that a weak heart!"

Everyone stared at the slightly diminutive, black-clad man.

"How the HELL does that mean he had a weak heart!" He stomped his left leg, the sound generated louder than one would've expected. "He loved me! I don't know anyone with a stronger heart and HE LOVED ME! He couldn't have had a weak heart. He couldn't've..." He gently collapsed, his brother rushing to support him.  
"He couldn't've had a stronger heart. He loved me with every part of it. He didn't die because of a weak heart Alphonse, he died-" the younger Elric motioned for the woman to come help him carry his brother out of the room, "he died because he loved me too much. That's why he died."

His brother smiled down at his brother's tear stained face. "Yes, he probably did. He probably did brother."


	3. Milk

**Title: **Milk

**Style:** Drabble  
**Genre:** General, humor  
**Rating:** G

* * *

"Brother?"

"What Al?" Edward turned from setting up the milk account with the shop keeper to turn his interest to his younger brother. "I'm busy setting up the milk account so we don't have to come get it everyday. If you think we should get some more flour or something just bring it over to the counter. You don't have to ask me." He turned back to the store keeper, a young married woman, and told her if she would excuse him.

"No, I don't mind. I've got two boys of my own." She smiled at the two and started sorting out some stuff in the back of the shop, humming to herself.

Edward Elric turned to his younger brother Alphonse and sighed. "What is it now?"

"Ummm.." The younger sibling mumbled and then started settling the items in his arms onto the counter. "You see- uh back home, I uh-" he started categorising the objects by height and weight, "we found out that I was," he gulped, "allergic to milk. I didn't mean to brother, it must have happened because of my new body and everything." The last sentence came out as a very complicated sounding word.

"Say that again. Slowly." He nodded at his brother to take a breath and begin again.

"Back home, we found out I was allergic to milk. I can't have large amounts of it otherwise I'll end up breaking out in spots. I didn't mean for it to happen."  
Ed just stood there for a second and then smiled. "At least we don't have to get milk every day." He turned to the shopkeeper. "Ma'am! We won't be needing that milk-" he got interrupted again by his brother.

"And brother? We have a cat that keeps visiting our back garden."


	4. Elysia to daddy

**Title: **Elysia to daddy

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** Fluff  
**Rating:** G

* * *

"Hello? Investigations department." Lieutenant Colonel Hughes picked up his phone as it started ringing, expecting a call from one of the other departments about something concerning the case he was working on.

"Daddy? Hi!" A little girl's voice came floating over the line.  
"Mummy said I could call you today, since I wasn't up this morning and mummy says you won't be home until I've gone to sleep." Hughes melted at the sound of his little daughter speaking over the phone.

"Elysia! How's my little angel doing today?" His voice immediately lost the business tone he had used when picking up, instead reverting to the voice he used when speaking directly to his daughter.  
"I'm good. I helped mummy make a pie in the kitchen today. I got to stir the mixture that went in it!"

Hughes could hear his daughter smiling into the phone and imagined her helping her mom wearing the cute little apron she had.  
"Does my little angel know what type of pie it is?"  
"Mummy says it's daddy's favourite. Uhh-" He could hear her sticking her finger in her mouth and thinking about what Gracia had called it. "Mushroomy pie! It tasted sweet!"  
"Don't eat too much then, save some for daddy when he comes home tonight."  
"'Course I will, we made it just for daddy!" She paused for a second and Maes thought he could hear Gracia softly talking to their daughter. "Mummy says we should hang up soon because you might receive an important call."  
"Almost nothing's more important than my Elysia but I do have work to do, so that might be a good idea. I'll try to come home early okay sweetie?"  
"'Kay daddy, bye!" He heard a sort of raspberry sound and he knew it was his daughter sending a kiss over the telephone.

Hughes smooched back into the mouthpiece.  
"Don't forget to tell mommy that I give her a kiss too! I might see you tonight okay? Bye!"  
"Bye daddy!" With that the phone clicked off, leaving Maes in an elated mood.

Until the phone rang again of course.


	5. Clouds in the sky

**Title:** Clouds in the sky

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** General  
**Rating:** G  
**Word count: **97

My first ever PROPER drabble. In fact it's so proper it's under a hundred words.

* * *

Ed and Al were lying on a hillock looking out over Rismbool.  
"Brother?" Al said lazily.  
"Yeah?" Ed replied, equally lazy.  
"Do you ever get the feeling you're falling into another world?"  
"Sometimes. When all the clouds are flat like that," he held his arm up, "it does."  
Al yawned and replied, "But you never end up falling. You just stay here... grounded," he half-closed his eyes, feeling sleepy in the spring sunshine.  
"Just staying here, in this world." Ed's eyes became half lidded as well. "Maybe it's a good thing we'll never fall there."


	6. Very much pissed

**Title:** Very much pissed

**Style: **One-shot  
**Genre:** General, one-sided romance  
**Rating:** M (ish)  
**Warning: **Alcoholism, yaoi themes, lengthy

The entire point of this is to get Roy drunk and to make him admit his love for Ed. And I just had to make him kiss Ed twice.

Line of inspiration (from a conversation I was having with Lina of BlackMercifulFaerie): _Has a sudden image of Roy taking Ed drinking, Roy getting throughly pissed and then admitting to Ed that he loves him._

* * *

"Ed," the Colonel pulled on his long coat, "I'm taking you drinking." He grabbed his hat from the stand and stood, waiting for the boy to get up off the couch.  
"Come along Fullmetal, we don't have all night." He tapped his foot impatiently, casting his eye over what could hold the kid's interest for so long he didn't want to leave the office. He was reading, or at least that's what it looked like from the door. As Roy approached the couch it was obvious that he had fallen asleep with the book over his face, his hands still gripping the sides.  
"Wake up Fullmetal, I'm taking you out drinking with me." He dragged on the boy's arm, half dragging him to the door before he gained enough consciousness to protest.  
"Wha'? Where ya taking me?" He staggered half-upright, still being half dragged along by the arm.  
"I said, I'm taking you drinking." Roy lead him down the main corridor of the building, taking the elevator route.  
"But-but.."  
"No protesting. I need someone to come drinking with me. There's no-one else in the office." They walked past the reception, the receptionist waving as they went past. As they walked onto the street, Roy's pace became much more furious, the boy's legs unable to catch up to him.

"Why d'you need a drinkin' partner?"  
"Because drinking is much more fun when you're doing it with someone." He took a sharp right into a street and then a left, confusing the half-awake boy with the number of turns he took.  
"Where're you taking us? 'Nd why would they serve me?" Ed protested as they turned another corner.  
"We're taking a shortcut to the Linsdor Pub. They do allow kids in there, just as long as they don't drink anything more potent than hot tea. Besides, you're not a kid, have at least one drink with me." He stalked on through the back ways of Central, practically keel-hauling the person he was dragging along.  
Ed jogged to keep up. "You're in an amicable mood, what'sup?" His eyes were opening as they walked down a street with the sign saying 'Linsdor Pub' hanging over it halfway down.  
"We're here." Roy pushed open the door to the waiting room and released his grip on the arm to take his coat and hat off. Ed hazily removed his and then asked the question again.  
"What's up?"  
Roy answered as they swept through into the main building. "I'm in the mood for needing a drink." With that he settled at the bar, Ed slipping in beside him after a moment.

"What'll it be sir?" The bartender walked down to take their order.  
"Two beers to start off with." Roy smiled charmingly, though the bartender still glanced dubiously at Ed and then moved off to get them.  
Ed turned round to Roy. "See? I told you they wouldn't serve me."  
"You said no such thing. Besides, they know me here." The bartender came back to them with the drinks in his hands and Roy laid down a few hundred cenz down.  
"That should serve us until I move onto some harder stuff. Unless of course you want to join me with that." Roy raised his glass at Ed as a toast. "To drinking buddies." With that he gave a smile and gulped his drink down.

Ed cautiously sipped at his beer and pulled a face.  
"I don't think I'll be joining you on that." He hurriedly swallowed it and set the empty glass mug down.  
Roy finished his off and placed it beside Ed's and watched the blonde rest his chin down on the counter. "I need a drinking partner and you're the only person around. I don't want a spoilsport."  
"I don't know how you can stand that stuff." He wrinkled his nose as the bartender came to collect their glass mugs to refill them.  
"You get used to it." Ed turned his head and rested it on his arms to look at the Colonel. He looked more relaxed now he was in the bar, drinking. Ed watched his face as the bartender approached with the refilled glasses. It seemed to get less strained as he accepted the glass and sipped at it, slowly this time, pacing himself out.  
"My normal round next time." The bartender looked over at Edward questioningly.  
"I'm fine. Maybe a soda after I finish this one." He waved the guy off, taking a tiny sip of the refilled mug. It was as horrible as his first one, so he resumed watching his superior officer.

Ed started comparing Roy to Granny. Granny was well known around Rismbool as one of the best drinkers in the countryside, her pottery stein almost as constant as her pipe at dinnertime with the Rockbells.  
He shuddered at his first experience with what was in that stein. All three of them, Al, Winry and himself, had their first childhood experiences with alcohol associated with that stein. They had all spat it out; Al throwing up afterwards and Winry stupidly taking another drink from it, forgetting that she had just drunk from it. Even now the Elrics only drank when they had to and Winry, probably as a result of living with Granny, occasionally drank though nowhere near the amounts Granny did.  
Granny was a resilient drinker and it was clear that Roy was too.  
Both started off the same, swigging down one before slowly and methodically going through more. Though if Granny ever had much of 'something' harder, Ed didn't know.

He took a second sip of the beer, grimacing as always. Roy was just about half done with his and again Ed wondered why he had been chosen as drinking partner. He voiced this, taking another chance with the glass mug in front of him.

"Why did you pick me to be your drinking partner?"  
Roy looked over the top of his tilted mug and replied as he lay the almost empty glass down onto the counter.  
"There's no-one else to today." Ed just glared at him, demanding a better reason causing Roy to look into the mug reflectively.  
"Maes used to be my drinking partner. He'd be around whenever I wanted a drink and occasionally I'd come when he wanted one. Since he's gone I don't really have anyone that's always up for it."  
Ed propped himself up on his elbows to look at Roy better. "What about the other people at the office?"  
"Hmm?" He started fiddling with the mug's handle, idly twirling it around. "Oh. Breda's up to it occasionally, so's Valman and Havoc occasionally. Valman's no fun though, he's just like Fuery and sits there having a glaring match with the glass. Have another sip Fullmetal, it won't hurt you." The Colonel pointed towards Ed's mug, with which he would have been very keen to have a staring match with instead of drinking it. He obliged the Colonel though, that had sounded almost like an order.  
"Good. No matter how many times I tell them to have fun they never seem to. Armstrong is willing to come along, but he always seems to nurse his. He's probably got some ancient family secret that would allow him to out drink me though." Roy threw back the last of his and continued.

"My dates are never fun to drink with, not that I'd ever would, but they seem to mostly like wine and all the fancy stuff. Nothing like good old beer." He turned to face Ed. "Do you know any drinking women?"  
Ed took a sip of his beer and replied, "Yeah. Granny and Winry. Why?"  
Roy laughed and gratefully accepted the smaller glass with the amber coloured liquid in it handed over by the bartender. "You know more than me then Edward. The only woman I know of is Riza."

Ed looked at Roy.  
"Lieutenant Colonel Riza Hawkeye?" His hand paused between mouth and counter.  
"Yeah, she's a good drinker, though she doesn't like beer or cocktails much." He took a sip from the smaller glass. "It's scary what she can throw back. She beat Breda eight shots to four once. Good at drinking games, but not at conversation. Which is why I asked you Fullmetal." He took another sip, the ice clinking in the glass.  
Ed nodded and took a sip, at which Roy smiled at him.  
"See? You're starting to get into the hang of it. And you're a good person to talk to." He patted Edward on the back and finished his glass off.  
Ed looked down at his glass. It was true he was getting used to it but it still tasted awful; he'd be glad to get to that soda.

-

He eventually got to the soda after Roy had gone through two more glasses himself. Their conversation had gone from people they knew who drank (Ed skimming over the fact that his father had been a drinking buddy of Granny's) to things like their birthdays (Ed learned that Roy liked getting clothing for his), alchemy theories, the government's hierarchy and things that they did as kids.  
"I grew up in the outskirts of a big town. I went to school in the city though and the other kids always thought I was a country kid. When I got blackboard duty I'd always get the ghosts off the board as well."  
Ed snorted. "Being diligent isn't something that country kids do. I mean, Winry, she never paid any attention during class, she'd always fall asleep or forget her homework. She has to get me and Al to help with the accounts."  
He watched Roy nod glumly. "I suppose so." With that Roy finished off his fourth glass of 'hard' stuff. Roy seemed to get more depressed as he dank more, totally different from Granny, who got progressively more cheerful and loud.  
"Ehh, Mustang?" Ed tried to talk his superior officer out of drinking more. "How about you have only one glass more?"  
"I'm FINE Edward. I beat Maes ten to eight one day. I can handle it. Besides," he took a sip at the new glass, "that's one reason you have a drinking buddy. You look after one another. If one gets drunk the other one takes 'em home." He waved his hand at the shorter male. "And you're not drunk are you?" Ed shook his head. He had been getting a headache somewhere around halfway through that second mug of beer, but it was gone now he was drinking soda.  
"Good. Because I need to have a few more drinks." After that Roy made no attempt to further participate in conversation.

-

So Ed was concerned when Roy started talking again.  
"Y'know, I wish I was there as Maes died. He had been always there for me," he slurped noisily at his drink, "always had time to a drink with me, always understood me and was there for me. I'm sad that he's gone." With that he gulped down the rest of his almost full glass.  
"Roy, that's your seventh drink. You should stop now." Ed reached out to grab Roy's shoulder but the man just shrugged it away.  
"I want to remember Maes, Fullmetal. Leave me be for a while." He left Ed to stare worriedly at him and the condensation on his own freshly refilled glass.

"Don't worry. He'll have another two or so drinks before he is drunk blind and has to be carted off home." The bartender consoled Ed as he replaced the Colonel's empty glass with another one. "You should be able to cart him home in fifteen minutes, just don't mind him if he starts spurting random stuff at you. You do know where he lives don't you?"  
"Yeah, it's subsidised by the military. It isn't too hard to find." Ed sipped at the soda, still worried about his superior.  
"Don't worry, he gets like this sometimes. Comes in here, drinks himself silly, goes out and doesn't do it again for a month or so. He's responsible for himself and only himself. You only need to worry that he doesn't crush you carrying him home." He grinned as Edward twitched in response. "It's a way of coping for him, drinking himself until he's pissed. Some people are like that. I know a lot of them keeping a pub like this. Your boss here isn't the only one in Central." He headed down to the other end of the bar as another patron waved him over.  
Ed looked at Roy beside him, slowly going through yet another glass. "You're a stupid ass, Roy Mustang. As stupid as a pig's butt."  
He watched, going through a glass of his own soda as Roy went through two more of his own glasses before the older man set his glass down and tried to stand up.  
Ed had to rush and support him as the man staggered up from his seat.

"As I said before, Mustang, you're a stupid ass." Ed lead him out to the coat room, waving goodbye to the bartender and putting his own coat on before seeing that Roy was trying to put his on back to front. He wryly pointed this out, earning a whine from his commanding officer before correcting it.  
After Roy slammed his hat on his head and almost into the door, Ed escorted the drunken Colonel out the door onto the street.  
"Come on," Ed readjusted the arm slung over his shoulders, "we need to get you home without you tripping yourself over. Or me." Roy staggered this way and that as Ed tried to navigate back onto a street he knew. "I'm trying to get you home, don't make it any more difficult for me."

The person in question just looked up at him and stated, "I was 'membering Hughes, h'Ed," before hiccupping.  
"Well, you're a fine damn idiotic ass for doing so by getting drunk blind." Ed readjusted the arm again and staggered out onto a street he vaguely recognized. Mustang was heavy and they were quite a way off from the area where Roy rented.  
"S'not my fault that's how I remember him." He morosely followed Ed, leaning heavily on him, not saying anything until Ed clearly knew where he was heading.  
"Y'know Ed, Hughes was always there f'me, he did stuff like you're doin' now. We were best friends and he'd do what you're doing now f'me." He staggered onwards into the street that Ed was fairly sure held his house. "I liked him, he was a good friend, but you're doin' it an' this is th' first time you've been drinking with me. N' you're so cute when you're angry."

Ed stopped at what he was certain, after looking at the plate above the letter slot, was the Colonel's house. He started walking and hauling the man up the steps all the while the person in question mumbling in his ear.  
"Y'know I think, looking at you, doin' this for me, I think I love you." Ed stopped a step short from the door, glaring at his superior officer, stating a "You're drunk," before leaning Roy Mustang against the door.  
"Nah, I think I really do, Eh-da-ward." He giggled as Ed fished through his coat pockets for the keys. "They're in my pant pocket." Roy gave a giggle before hiccupping.  
Ed glared at the highly suggestive comment. "It doesn't matter that you're drunk and probably not able to do anything, but I am not going anywhere near it." He crossed his arms, leaving Roy to fiddle around for the keys.

"You're no fun, especially as you love me so." He dropped the keys into Ed's outstretched hand. "You know I love you now. Why don' you say something?" He leaned in over Ed's shoulder as the blonde unlocked the door.  
Ed gritted his teeth. "Because I told you, I don't love you." He pushed Roy into the hallway, practically ripping off the brown long coat to get out of there quickly.  
"Hmm?" Roy watched as he went on tiptoe to take off his hat. "Why not?" He bent his head down as if to make it easier for the shorter alchemist to grab his hat, but instead kissed him on the nose.

"What?" Ed paused for a moment, his fingers gripping the hat for a moment before he flew into a fit. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST DO!"  
He let the hat fly from his fingers and wrenched his shoulder from Roy's grip before backing away. "What the hell are you trying to do? And don't tell me you just kissed me!"  
"I love you, Edward, 'course I did." He bent down to pick up the hat, steadying himself with the hat stand and then turning around and placing it on Ed's head using it as a lasso to pull him in.  
"Wait just a sec," Ed stopped, his forehead a few centimetres from Roy's lips, "You are not kissing me again." He squirmed, trying to get out the door and out of Roy's grasp.  
"No."

Ed's senses for the next few seconds told him that there was something very strong and alcoholic, disgusting, warm and slobbery within close proximity of his lips. His brain then managed to tell him to duck and run far, far away.  
"That's m'hat." Roy called out after him and received a face full of hat hurled in his face. Edward was at the bottom of his steps and receding.  
"I love you!" he shouted out to the running figure.

-

"Yeah," Edward thought as he heard his very drunk superior officer shout out behind him, "he's drunk. There's no way he'd ever say that otherwise."


	7. Morning after

**Title:** Morning after 

**Style: **One-shot  
**Genre:** General, one-sided romance  
**Rating:** PG (ish)  
**Warning: **Yaoi themes, lengthy

At last, I managed to get the sequel to 'Very much pissed' out. Found out I can only write this when I don't hang around yaoi fangirls. Kind of weird, but hey, I got this finished.  
Done as a response to Fae Elric's review on 'Very much pissed'.

* * *

Roy groaned.  
He was having a hell of a hangover and the memories of the night before weren't any better. He silently cursed the fact that he remembered everything from when he was drunk and groaned again.

"You know boss, you shouldn't get yourself drunk on a Thursday." Havoc helpfully pointed out from his reclining position at his desk. "It's hell coming into work the day after."  
"Don't tell me that." Roy rubbed at his eye sockets, his eyelids feeling as if they were made of lead; heavy and burning his eyes whenever he blinked. "I needed a drink, and I think I need one now." He gave a slow moan as he collapsed his head onto the desk.  
"Hair of the dog is no use sir. Only makes it worse." He continued his conjecture as Riza came into the room.  
"See, Hawkeye here, when she gets drunk she-"  
"I have a glass of water before I go to sleep and another one after I wake up. A warm shower does wonders." She set her folder down on the table. "Also paracetamol, hot tea and a hot water bottle help. Havoc, get your feet off the table."  
"She's right. Have you had any paracetamol yet boss?" Havoc removed his feet from the desk, folding them underneath the table as he was supposed to.  
"Havoc," Roy looked at him from under his massaging hands, "Hawkeye gives that advice for any type of medical issue. She gave that response to Fuery when he got tetanus." Roy continued to massage at his temples.  
"It works sir. Though I did recommend aspirin for Fuery, not paracetamol." Riza left the room, the door snicking shut behind her.  
"She's cold." He looked over at his boss. "Have you considered taking her out?"  
"She's a subordinate."  
"So? Just get a transfer for yourself to another division."  
Roy glared at him. "She's Hawkeye."  
"Guess so." Havoc settled his feet up on the table again, idly fiddling with the constant cigarette.

"So, why do you want another drink? Did you do something stupid last night like spill beer down your date's top?"  
"Something like that Havoc, something like that." Roy's head lolled against his arm, making his mumble even more incomprehensible.  
"Girl problems? I can help with that."  
He snorted into his arm at the thought of Havoc helping sort out his relationship problems. Wasn't he the one who kept losing his girlfriends because of some Casanova?

He didn't have any problems with women, they just kept flocking to him, as if drawn by some molecular bond. They all admired him for this or that; even Hawkeye found some attraction in him. Most of the eligible women in Central (and some that weren't) would never turn down a chance to go on a date with him.

And those who would turn down him probably had Edward Elric in mind for a date.  
Every time the prodigal alchemist strode out the headquarters door onto the street, Roy could swear that half the girls stopped and gazed at him. Maybe a quarter of them were actually Edward's age, but Roy had to commend him for not noticing that he attracted all those women.

Neither he nor Mustang should've had problems with women.  
Unfortunately for the latter, he had a problem with the younger.

Roy made another noise of painful regret as his head began to hurt from thinking about his problem.

"Here you go sir." Riza placed a cup of tea and a plate with two tablets on it near his head. "Some tea and paracetamol for your hangover."  
"Thanks." Roy smiled weakly before sitting up enough to swallow the tablets down with the scalding hot tea. The tea immediately did something, possibly soothing his nerves a bit. Roy didn't know how they got that way in the first place but it might have had something to do with the fact that the Fullmetal hadn't reported in yet and it was already eleven in the morning.  
So, although his blotter was very interesting to look at, he had to look up to address Hawkeye.  
"Do you know where the Fullmetal is? He's supposed to report in this morning."  
She shuffled her papers into order, having already talked to Havoc about his feet again and replied,  
"He caught me in the hallway earlier this morning, he said that if there wasn't a problem he'd be out all day doing some shopping for Winry. I said it was fine as he had checked it with me." She blinked owlishly at him. "I hope that was okay sir."  
"Mmmm. Maybe. At least my hangover won't get any worse." Actually, it made Roy's problems bigger but nobody needed to know that.  
So Roy just rolled over to look at what he was supposed to do today. Only some forms requisitioning supplies and reassigning officers to other divisions and regiments. Nothing too brain killing and it should allow him some time to think.

-

"'Corporals Allen, Gydsworth, Huemann and Mory are to be transferred to the Western eightieth battalion under Lieutenant Hobbs, by instruction of Lieutenant General Voss. Signature of current superior commanding officer, Colonel rank or higher, to be signed below. As superior officer I, Colonel Roy- blah, blah, blah. Sign here, here and here.'" Roy read out and then numbly signed where it told him to.  
The paperwork may have been boring enough to allow him to think but it was so boring he couldn't think well. The only thing he had come up for resolving what had happened last night was to beg Ed's forgiveness.  
And he, Colonel Roy Mustang, wasn't ever going to stoop to that level. It would only encourage Edward to act even more high and mighty, causing him to have even more headaches.  
So he took another bland and boring form to fill out, trying almost vainly to think up another way to gain Edward's understanding and forgiveness without lowering himself to that level.  
Roy weakly smiled at his joke and then banged his head on the table again.

-

Maybe it was the paracetamol that Hawkeye had given him, maybe because he was walking out in the fresh air, or it might have been because he had finally come up with a plan on how to make it up to Edward, but Roy was was feeling much better as he looked into shop windows.  
He groused along the street, his civilian outfit bland and blending in with the rest of the street's pedestrians. Not that there were many along this one, it's avenue lined with watch and clock shops. They were the reason why Roy was walking down this street.

Earlier he had gone to the former librarian, Schieska, to find out what Edward would be getting for Winry.

"Whaa? Why are you asking me where Edward shops? How would I know?" She had gone into a blind panic as Roy had asked her the question, coming up with all sorts of nonsense.  
"Wait, I bet you think he's been taken over by aliens and you want to try and see if they've got plans on monopolizing automail! Or maybe you're his secret lover and you want to apologise to him for the spat you had last night!"  
He had smiled kindly at her far-fetched theory and stopped her train of thought.  
"Nothing like that, I just want to apologise to him for something I did while I was drunk. Do you know where he would buy presents for Winry?"  
"Oooh, I bet you proclaimed your love for him and got hopelessly turned down." She haplessly struck near the mark.  
"No, I just need to know where he'd go buy stuff for Winry."  
"Oh." She looked crestfallen as her theories obviously weren't correct. "She'd get him to go to all the expensive shops along the watchmakers' street. She gets him to give them as presents you see because when she sends me money to buy them for her, she tells me to go to the cheaper shops." She babbled on cheerfully about Winry's spending habits until Roy stopped her.  
"Just as long as you can tell me the most likely place he'll be." He had stared gravely at her before walking out the door, smiling his trademark smile. "Which you've done, despite your theories about aliens and nonsuch."

He had come up with a perfect plan to apologise to Edward without utterly humiliating himself again, or worse than that, have no shred of honour left. But he had morals, dammit, that wouldn't let him get away with a simple sorry.  
So he'd tell Edward it was a giant drunken mistake and say that he had often been in Ed's position when he'd been drinking with Hughes.  
Simple, clean, effective and didn't involve anything humiliating, embarrassing or the worst of them all, involvement of any true feelings.

He hadn't wanted to soul search as he formulated a plan for his apology, but he did, earthing rather disconcerting revelations.  
He HAD meant what he said the night before. That had been the rather unsettling piece of information he had dug up, which had the unpleasant side effect of him yelling at Breda for no apparent reason.  
Breda could get over it though, but Roy wasn't sure if he ever would.

He was in love with the Fullmetal Alchemist! It sounded ridiculous and absurd. Even more so when you considered that both of them were men and that one of them -HE- was labelled a lady killer.

"Though the kid is generally liked by everyone; he isn't called the people's alchemist for nothing." Roy pondered, gazing absently up at the rather gloomy sky. "It could be his general charisma."  
He wasn't just generally attracted though. Something that made him want to be there for Ed. Maybe he was feeling fatherly towards him, he had known him for a third of his life and Edward had no-one else to look up to.  
Or maybe...  
"No, no, no, no, NO!" Roy furiously shook and scrubbed at his head to get rid of the idea.

He did love the Fullmetal, but it was not going to be in that kind of way. He was admitting to it, though as to how it happened or what kind it was, he didn't know.

-

A shop bell jingled somewhere ahead of him, someone saying thanks before letting the door close behind them.  
Roy wasn't paying any attention, he was muttering to himself and trying to get the thoughts of how and why out of his head while trying to scan the shops for a blonde. So he startled when the bunch of bags and boxes in front of him greeted him.

"Mustang. Why're you here?" The Fullmetal poked his head from out behind the pile. "You need your watch fixed or something?"  
"What?" Roy blinked confusedly for a moment before registering that the blonde he was looking for was right in front him holding a large pile of presents for Winry.  
"Sorry, didn't see you behind that pile." The comment was totally harmless but still elicited a muttered 'Don't call me small' from Edward.  
"Nice to see you too." Roy smiled amicably. "Do you want any help with that?"  
"I'm finished. I don't need any help from you."  
"Well then. I offer you a drink before you go."  
"I'm not going to be your drinking partner again."  
"No," he fell into step beside Edward, "I'm offering to pay for you to get pissed and to allow me to get you back home safely. It's the least I can do for the incident yesterday."  
Ed glowered at the man. "It was early this morning. And no." He footsteps slapped loudly against the cobblestones.  
"You know Edward," Roy's speech paused casually, "I was drunk blind and I didn't mean a word of what I said."  
"Explain why you kissed me then."  
"I don't know." Roy shrugged and took a bag from the boy's arms as he struggled with them. "Maes once tried to do that to me when he was drunk once. He didn't know either."

"So," Edward removed his chin from the top of the pile he was holding as Roy took another package from it, "you don't love me? You don't have any feelings for me?"  
Roy furrowed his eyebrows and settled the packages more comfortably in his arms. "I don't have any feelings for you. But you are my subordinate, thus I care for you. I'd care for you just as I would Hawkeye. Or any of the others." he added, eyebrows still furrowed. "Perhaps more," he avoided the cold glare aimed at him, "as you are still a child and need it."

He smiled at the pouting face. "I'd never take advantage of you Edward. So will you accept my apology?"  
Edward stared straight ahead before turning to smile back. "As long as you pay for some of this instead of taking me out to drink, sure!"  
Roy's expression softened. "Thanks Edward."  
"Winry's an expensive girl to shop for, so I wouldn't count on it Mustang." He grinned cheerfully up at him.

"Still, thanks."  
Roy wished he could express his gratitude some better way than repeated words of thanks and buying presents for Winry.


	8. Window view

**Title: **Window view

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** General  
**Rating:** G-ish  
**Word count: **100

* * *

"Do you know who's moved in with the Colonel? I've only see shadows," one neighbour asked the other.  
"No, I haven't. I've only seen glimpses of blonde hair through the windows."  
"Maybe it's that Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye. Apparently they're a couple."  
"I thought he liked his women too much to settle down."  
"Well, if she's moved in, maybe he's finally settling down." They nodded in general consensus.

"Roy, the neighbours are gossiping again." The figure moved back from its lookout from the curtains.  
"Probably about who's moved in with me." Fingers settled on a shoulder, messily tangling with golden strands.


	9. What happened?

**Title:** What happened?

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** Angst, Romance  
**Rating:** PG  
**Warning:** Angsting, yaoi references

I wrote this right after finishing 'Morning after' and I was slightly depressed.

* * *

_What happened to his dream?  
_Edward looked at the dark haired man at the desk in front of him.  
He seemed so mechanical these days, simply going through the motions of work, not striving to the top.  
Like he used to.

Edward missed the old Roy Mustang.

_-_

_Tell me, where have your dreams gone? Have they faded away? Are they gone now? Gone, dissipated?_

Edward wondered what had happened in all those years he had gone, in all those guilt ridden days. Where had Roy's lifelong dream go?  
He had once wanted to be Fuhrer. Now, he just wanted to be comfortable.  
Had he become soft-hearted and weary after all he had been through?

_-_

_Where has your dream gone?_

Where has your dream gone Roy? Where has it disappeared to?  
Edward's voice slid velvet-like into the darkness, voicing the heavy question he had been thinking.

Where has it gone?

Dark eyes looked down into faded gold eyes and hair. They'd never be the same brilliant gold they had once been but...

"It's right here Edward. It's right here." Heavy lips kissed a leaden brow; their dreams only of each other.


	10. All a dream

**Title:** All a dream

**Style: **Plot bunny  
**Genre:** General  
**Rating:** G  
**Characters** (In case you're confused): The seven homonculi, Ed, Hoenheim.

The thing was rabid and it bit me. Makes almost no sense at all, especially if you don't know the story of how benzene's molecular structure was supposedly discovered.  
Has some chemistry references, but I stuffed the formation up slightly.  
For those who want to know: the carbon forms a ring, the hydrogen linking to one carbon atom. The carbon then forms a link to the carbon atoms either side of it, those atoms also forming a bond with the atoms either side, so that each carbon atom has five bonds.

* * *

August Kekule put down his pen and sighed. It was hard trying to figure out the molecular structure of benzene, it had six carbon atoms and six hydrogen. It shouldn't have been a problem but the carbon atoms would only bond in a certain way.  
It was driving him up the wall.

He had spent the entire day sketching out possible ways that the molecule could be formed. Maybe it was a lattice or maybe a net. Whatever it was he hadn't thought of it.

He left his work in the corner table, he might think of it over dinner, his bath and as he went to sleep. It was, after all, taking up all his time with its conundrum so he might as well do it then as well as during the day.

-

"Maybe it's got a triangular structure.." He idly stirred his dinner.  
"Or perhaps it's similar to sodium.." He submerged his head underneath the bath water. "Though it doesn't have similar bonds to sodium and chlorine," he shook his head, sending droplets everywhere, "though it could be pyramidal..."  
"No, that wouldn't work," he rubbed the towel through his hair and settled back onto his bed, "maybe they're all arranged in a line. But where is the seond bond for the atoms at the end?" He twisted and turned, ideas swirling around in his head, and then as he snuffed the candle out, darkness.

_-_

_Black, deep darkness. Space, nothingness.  
__Absolute absence of light, but yet there were shadows flickering, flitting at the corners of his vision.  
_Kekule dreamt on, a strange dream forming.

_Twelve pinpoints of light formed and danced, forming patterns. Constellations, geometric shapes, patterns. Eventually they settled into a line, dancing and jittering but staying in-line. They danced, wiggling in spirals and zig-zags then circling, round and round and round, until it was just a blur. A circle with twelve points of light. It danced a bit more, disappearing from sight, then re-appearing, a hexagon._

_It flashed for a moment, then it span around again, faster and faster.  
__Then it disappeared, replaced with a blood red dragon biting it's own tail._

_Darkness again, mere nothingness._

_Then flashes; slim, dark daggers, a gaping mouth, a figure melting and reforming, another dissolving and moving fluidly. An unseeing eye, a crack and flash of light, a gargantuan muscular figure.  
__All of which had that same red dragon biting its own tail.  
_Why? What is this dream?

_Nothing replied, instead a luminously white and female chest appeared in front of him, that red ouroburous nestled above it.  
__Kekule reached, reached for that symbol, but had his hand pierced, speared by long black knives. _

_The symbol appeared again, on a tongue in a gaping mouth.  
__Again he reached, his hand eaten away as he placed it on that tongue._

_It appeared on a shoulder, on a hand.  
__He hand went through it, got crushed._

_It appeared on a foot, on a thigh.  
__He watched as his hand got twisted into a grotesque shape, then his fingers broken and unfeeling._

_And then, finally, it appeared on that white, unseeing eye.  
__He reached, a voice booming out.  
__"No secrets for you boy. Back to your own world."_

_He fell back, back into nothingness, floating weightlessly._

He woke up, the image of the ourobourous burnt into his eyes, the circle of twelve lights dancing in it.  
"That's it! Benzene's molecular structure!" With that he rushed off to make note of his revelation, the rest of his dream soon forgotten.

-  
-

"So this August Kekule guy laid his discovery down to a dream?" Edward questioned his father, looking up from the scientific text he was reading.

"Yes, he did. He claimed that he had seen a snake biting its own tail. Well, that was his later version. Among his first ones was that of a dragon biting it's own tail, an ourobourous."

"An ourobourous eh? Well, wonders never cease. I wonder how far they influence..." Ed looked off through the train window, thinking about what if they could travel through the gate and if he could too.


	11. Springtime

**Title:** Springtime

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** Fluff, General  
**Rating:** PG

Written for Crazy-FullMetal-Girl as a get better present. She likes it, I think it's cheesy. (Well, I like the very last line.. Might use that again...)

Anyway, this is dedicated to you, Crazy-FullMetal-Girl.

* * *

Winry arranged the flowers on the table.  
It was good that Granny was good with her hands, both with the nerves of automail, and for growing flowers. Already some early lillies had sprung up and were currently gracing the table with the later daffodils.  
Spring sure was glorious in the countryside.

Winry snorted.  
_And Ed and Al are stuck on a musty train to Central. Why do they have to spend NOW over there? I mean all that happens over there in Central is that they get involved in mess.  
It'd be much nicer and pleasanter if they stayed here for a bit. Maybe they'd be able to smell the flowers and have some fresh air. And Ed needs a checkup too. _Winry pondered over the brothers as she finished arranging the flowers.

"GRANNY! When are the roses coming through!"  
"Further on in the summer! Not for another few months!"  
Their exchange was made through the kitchen window, Winry leaning against the sink to speak to her grandmother in the flower bed below.

"Aren't there spring varieties?"  
"Those are hard to grow dear. I don't have time!"  
Sighing, Winry sat back on the counter. She liked roses, especially the ones that were creamy white or buttery yellow.

So she automatically answered the phone when it rang, not really in the mood to settle business.  
"Hello. Rockbell Automail."  
"Uhh." A voice stuttered over the line. "Winry? It's me, Ed-"  
Winry startled upon hearing **Ed** call.  
"You broke your automail again didn't you? Come over, it'll take you three days by train as always and we'll have everything set up for you. What one is it this time? Have you grown or has something gone bust, because you know, it's not me whose fault it is for those broken arms, it's you."  
Winry rambled on, not really letting Ed finish.  
"Just come over and get it over and done with. It'll be the usual fee. Just as long you promise not to get into anymore trouble."  
Winry thought she heard a "Only with you" before the line cut off.

"Huh. He's being moodier than usual." With that Winry went off to prepare the workroom and the spare bedroom as well as clear out all the laundry.  
Ed never seemed to understand the concept that the military had a laundry service.

-  
-

"I thought Ed said he'd broken his arm this time. Not grown again." Winry complained a few days after Ed's phonecall, "It'd only take this long if he'd grown and was going around limping." Winry looked out her bedroom window.  
She could see absolutely anyone who came up the path or the main road from that window.  
Quite handy when she wanted to throw a spanner at someone.

"WINRY DEAR! You need to tidy the workroom again!" Granny yelled at Winry's attempts to make Ed's automail checkup as quick as possible. "We don't need more prototypes lying around and we defintely don't need metal shavings getting stuck in his sockets!"  
"Fine Granny!" Winry left her post at her window in order to ensure Ed had a pain-free (or at least no more than usual) attachment.

She was using the compressed air to clear the bench when the rap of the homemade doorknocker made her spring out of the workroom to the door.  
"I'm getting it Granny! You stay there doing the accounts!" She bounded towards the door, opening it and expecting to see an Edward with a busted arm.

A bunch of pale yellow and white roses was thrust in her face, a goldenrod yellow head of hair behind it.  
"Spring roses, couresty of the greenhouses at Central. And the Tringham brothers. They're a pair of agricultural alchem-" Edward stopped, Winry's shoulder pressing his mouth shut as she hugged him.

"Thank you Edward!" Winry proceeded to shower her affections on the Fullmetal Alchemist, causing the younger brother behind him, who was holding all their bags, to promptly leave them and go stare at Granny's begonias.


	12. Apples

**Title:** Apples

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** Fluff, General  
**Rating:** PG

Another one written for Crazy-FullMetal-Girl as a get better present.

* * *

"Thirty-nine. You're boiling up Roy"  
Riza held the thermometer at an angle so she could inspect the level properly.  
"Maybe a tad over as well." She looked over at him. "This means you are sick. It means," she pushed him back into a reclining position, "no work." She looked at him expectedly. "And you're not excited at that?"  
"No, I'm burning up and I feel horrible. Trust me, work's better than this." He theatrically held a hand to his forehead.  
"Maybe it's just as well, I'm going in to get some work for you to do while you're sitting in bed here."  
She unfolded her legs from the bed and went to place the thermometer back in the bathroom, Roy watching her purple pyjamaed back.

He hadn't known she be like this after all the dates and the engagement ring that was waiting to be turned into a wedding ring.  
He was almost as worried as she was at his illness about her caring side.  
Sure, he had seen her coo over Black Hayate a few times, but nothing like rolling over in the middle of the night and waking him up JUST to take his temperature.  
So, not only was he feverish and grouchy, he was tired and to top it all off, she hadn't even touched him (aside from taking his temperature) for fear of getting it herself.

He slumped back as she returned, throughly bedraggled and irritable.  
He didn't even notice that she went out of the room again and came back.  
He was feeling depressed at the thought of doing paperwork while he was sick, being sick and not having any contact with Riza for the next few days.

"Not even a lousy kiss!" He threw the heavy coverlet off his sweltering torso. The nightshirt that he wore would be enough to keep him warm.  
He was feverish.

A cool hand pulled the coverlet back up.  
"No, we've got to keep you warm." Riza's hand resisted against his attempt to pull it back down.  
"We don't need you getting a chill on top of this fever." She sat down beside him, Roy vaguely noticing that she was wearing a shift instead of her usual black top and underwear; what she usually wore under her uniform.  
"I'll be going in just to get some paperwork for us to do and to tell the reception that both of us are taking sick leave." She wiped at his face and neck with a freezingly cold flannel.  
"So don't have any ideas of running away to escape it."  
Despite being near freezing the flannel was almostly godly as it wiped away his sweat and cooled his skin.  
"That why you're wearing a dress?"

She nodded and left the cold flannel in a bowl on the bedside.  
"It's a day off, you know I wear dresses then." She kissed him lightly on his freshly mopped forehead before vacating the room.  
Roy's mind was in a state of joy for the next few minutes as he relished the fact he was no longer starved of contact.

He was still elated when he heard a door creak, announcing the arrival of his fiancee.  
Not quite so when he saw the tremendous pile in her arms, but a bit more when he saw she had a shopping bag as well. "Medicine?" he croaked.  
"Sort of." She placed the stack on her table, which had plenty of space for it and took the bag out with her.  
Roy looked sceptically at the pile. There was no way that was all meant for him.  
Maybe some of it was meant for her, after all she was taking days off until he got better.  
She was scary in the way she looked after him so much.  
There were death threats at work, but yet, every time he kissed her, he could feel that she loved, cared, adored, admired him.

He was looking apprehensively at the pile when Riza walked in again holding a plate.  
"Open up." She propped her back against the headboard, her dress tucked as neatly as it was possible in an unmade bed and pushed something wet and sticky and SWEET into his mouth.

It was an apple slice.  
"To make you feel better." She pushed it further into his mouth, unlike the last time, not on the tip of a knife. Which Roy had to admit was better, it meant his tooth didn't chip. It was a bit too sweet though and he mentioned this as the plate got half empty.  
Riza paused, her hand halfway to his mouth and diverted it to her own before reaching over for the flannel, pausing to wipe his face before wiping her fingers of apple juice.  
She smiled before putting it back into the bowl and standing up.

"Well, you can start on your share of the paperwork. Since the appples seem to have done their work of making you feel happier." Roy's face paled as she put about half of the paperwork on his chest before sitting back down to finish the apples and writing with one hand.  
"Can I have one more then? Please?" Roy whimpered before Riza kissed him and popped another apple slice into his mouth.  
"Just do your work silly"


	13. Obsessive

**Title:** Obsessive

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** Angst  
**Rating:** G  
**Warnings: **Angst, Obessesive compulsive-ness, OoC-ness

Yes, it's angsty and yes, it's out of character. But it works. Somehow.

* * *

Alphonse looked at his arm.  
In Rismbool, the air was clean and fresh. Here, in Central, who knew what kinds of things were in the air and could land on your skin?

Alphonse looked at it.

He could see the minute specks of airborne grime and filth, all the dust and dirt that had settled there.  
It was dirty, and he should clean it. He should scrub at it until it was clean and free of any blemish or smudge; free of any tarnish.

Alphonse scrubbed at his arm; washing it over and over until, at last, his arm, his skin, his false body gleamed.


	14. Little Roy Blue

**Title: **Childhood dream (Roy), Childhood hapiness (Ed) Collectively known as Little Roy Blue  
**Style: **Double drabble  
**Genre: **General  
**Rating:** G

**Word count  
**Roy: 100  
Edward: 97  
Total: 197

* * *

Once, when he was five or so, Roy Mustang was taken to the military parade grounds by his father.  
He had gazed upon those blue uniforms in admiration and awe, at the power and majesty that Amestris displayed. He was proud to be a citizen of it and, from that point on, wanted to be part of that glory and power.  
He wanted to be the best example of his country, and, as he watched the general lead the formation, he knew he had to go to the top.

"That's a big dream," his father had said.

"I'll get there."

-  
-----  
-

Ed's first experience with the military was a few days after his third birthday.  
"See those men Edward?" his father pointed out the window, "They protect this country."

Edward gazed out at the blue uniforms, some ornamented by silver pocket watches.  
"You see that man out front? He's the Major Mustang, one of the youngest state alchemists in our history. He's got a dream, a big one. Do you have any Edward?"  
Edward looked at his father and then to his mother and brother who were lounging on the couch.  
He smiled up at his dad.

"No."


	15. In the middle of nowhere, over a stile

**Title:** In the middle of nowhere, over a pointless stile

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** General, humor  
**Rating:** G  
**Warnings: **If you squint and turn your head sideways, it might look like Elricest

* * *

"Brother!" The youthful brown-blonde boy called out to the older, blonde, young man behind him. The former had removed his jacket, unbuttoned his waistcoat; sweltering under a British summer sun. The latter was more reserved, his jacket slung over a shoulder, shirt and waistcoat still done up.

"Brother!" The boy calls again to his lagging brother, halfway across this most recent field, waiting patiently by the stile before deciding to swing his leg over in anticipation, straddling the field wall.

"Coming, Alphonse!" The older brother made an effort to rush, jogging towards the dry stone wall.

"Finally brother. It honestly takes you ages just to walk a short distance." Alphonse swung his remaining leg over the stile, using his hip and swinging the leg out before jumping down to the grass on the other side.

"Hmph." The older stepped up to the stile and went over it rather like an old man, awkwardly stepping over it.

"Poor Edward, you look so stiff like that." Alphonse teased his brother mercilessly, grinning madly.

"'S not my fault the damn knee is getting stiff."

"You're starting to look like father you know." He was walking backwards so he could face his brother and gauge the elder's reaction.

Which was rather explosive, the stiff steps transforming into a running lunge. "I do not look like that old bastard! And you're the one who forgot to get the oil for it the last time!"

"Doesn't it make you wish that Winry was here to remind us?" He jumped out the way and walked backwards quicker, keeping a faster pace than his brother was.

"No! She kept hitting me over the head with a wrench! Besides," Edward stopped, his hands resting on his hips, "we managed for two years."

Alphonse stopped as well, thoughtful. "But I needed the oil as well then." He smiled.

"You were less uppity as well." Ed started walking again, hooking his arm around his brother's shoulders as he walked past.

"I only had a suit of armour then!" The younger brother protested, both at his brother's statement and the arm that was tugging him along. "I couldn't feel anything!"

Ed looked to his brother, grinning. "Yeah. I like you in this body too. Up for another race?"


	16. Folate!

**Title:** Folate!

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** General, Silly  
**Rating:** PG (M-ish for the omake)  
**Extra: **Includes omake

This is actually a topical thing where I live. Introducing folate to flour so that pregnant women get the amount they need. Just some people think it's harmful. Psh.  
I couldn't help myself concerning the omake. I just had to do it.

* * *

Central city of Amestris booms with life and vibrancy as well as the voice of the present Fuhrer. His voice can be heard far and wide, but more importantly, loudly...

"WE NEED TO PUT FOLATE IN OUR BREAD FOR THE PREGNANT WOMEN!"

The loud exclamation was heard across the main part of the city, some people cringing in anticipation for the next part of his statement.

"BEACAUSE FOLATE IS IMPORTANT FOR FOETAL DEVELOPEMENT!" The Fuhrer stood in the middle of the square outside Headquarters, several aides standing around him trying to look as if they weren't associated with him. Several others were standing with him as well, all of them looking on nervously as he continued with his announcement.

"As such I believe it is important that a supply of folate be introduced to the flour supply of all Amestris! We need our children, our children's children to be strong and healthy! As Fuhrer I pledge to bring this ideal to life!"

-

Roy Mustang punched his fist into the air, finishing his announcement and causing those watching him to sigh with relief and almost wilt with embarrassment. Several of them were blond and one approached Roy as he lowered his arm and looked around.

"So, what did you think dear?" He planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Next time, please don't announce stuff like that out in public, it's embarrassing. For all of us."  
Riza Hawkeye looked over to the rest of the group looking on, Alphonse standing alongside Winry and Ed glowering from beside a brightly smiling Rose. All were looking rather amicable; though, with the exception of the two small children cavorting around Rose and Ed, it looked to be the rather strained kind.  
In fact Ed looked as if he might very well be tempted by the thought of assassination...

"Well, I thought that went along well." Roy smiled charmingly as he approached the group.

"It's great that you're so concerned about the greater populace and the health of mothers and their children." Rose smiled even more brightly at him.

"But I think next time," Ed glared as Roy approached, "just because Hawkeye is getting only sixty eight percent of her recommended folate intake, you shouldn't do something as drastic as this."

-

* * *

**OMAKE**

-

"Now Ed, you need to increase your folate intake."

"Why's that?" The blonde looked up from eating his toast and reading the paper.

"Well," Roy turned to the tap to get a glass of water, "folate is an important nutrient for expectant mothers. It prevents birth defects from developing in a foetus-" He got cut off by a large explosion.

"ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME YOU DON'T WANT OUR KID TO BE SO SMALL THAT WE'D HAVE TROUBLE FINDING THEM IN THE SWADDLING!" Ed raged at him, his swollen stomach trembling with his fury.

"No, just that maybe you need it instead."


	17. All Elbows

**Title:** All elbows

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** General, Silly  
**Rating:** G

* * *

"Hey, did you know you can't lick your elbow?" Havoc read out a sheet that had been left on his desk. "It's physically impossible, you can't do it."  
All the of the occupants of the office regarded this small fact in silence, Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda lifting his experimentally and sticking his tongue out at it.  
"I can't get it." Breda strained his tongue and arm in an attempt to prove the fact wrong.  
"He just said it was impossible." Valman said stoically, though he too was looking at his elbow curiously.  
Fuery lifted his arm up experimentally, "It seems you should be able to do it," he stuck his tongue out in the direction of the joint, "but you can't."

"You can though."  
Everyone swiveled round to look at the Colonel.  
"It's simple." He raised his right arm and turned his head and stuck his tongue out so it lightly touched the inside of his elbow.  
Riza sighed.  
"I think he meant the point of it sir, not the crook of it."  
"So? It's still your elbow." Roy returned to staring boredly at those under his command, "It's the same thing."  
"The lady's right boss, it supposed to be the point."  
"Then it is impossible."

A light chuckle came from the couch.  
"For normal people it is Colonel," Edward stressed the last word sarcastically, "but for people like me," he indicated himself with his thumb, "it's no problem at all."  
"Show us then, Oh ye great alchemist of the people," he smirked at the stubborn adolescent.  
"Glad to, geezer." He lifted his arm up and grasped his shoulder with the other hand. "Watch and learn." A series of loud and rather painful sounding clicks resounded as Edward twisted and pulled at his shoulder and elbow in turn.  
"See?" He stuck his tongue out at them and at the Colonel Roy Mustang before poking the material of his sleeve with it.

-

There was a pause before people started to clap slowly.

"Nice one Edward." Havoc grinned at him, Fuery clapping enthusuastically behind him, "Nice one."  
"That's cheating."  
"Breda, he did say people like him." Hawkeye sighed and rolled her eyes before stopping her clap.  
"Congratulations Fullmetal, you've shown us that licking your elbow is possible. But," Roy stated off-handedly, "I wouldn't want to be in your shoes when Winry finds out what you've done with your arm."


	18. Pineapple

**Title:** Pineapple

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** General, Silly  
**Rating:** G  
**Extra: **Includes omake

* * *

"Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye?" Colonel Roy Mustang wandered into the centre of his command, hands clasped behind his back.

"Yes sir?" She looked up from setting down Black Hayate's water bowl, pushing on her knees to stand up. It was the lunch break and everyone was off to enjoy it. She had Hayate and other duties to see to though, so she stayed behind.

"I was having trouble remembering when the field exercises were to be observed. Could you-"

"Tomorrow, at two in the afternoon. There was a memorandum on your desk this morning sir." she reported, handing him another copy before picking up her bag. "Now, if you're in the office, can I please ask you to watch Hayate while I get lunch?"

"Wait." He stopped her before she walked out at the end of her sentence. "Here, take this." He handed her the bag that he had clasped in his hands, which Hawkeye had assumed contained his lunch. "It's for you."

"What? Lunch?" She took the bag carefully, weighing it with both hands. It was rather heavy and lumpy, not very much like a packed lunch at all.

"No."

"Something for Black Hayate?"

"No, just open it."

She sighed and opened the bag. She would have had to anyway, to figure the contents out, but she hadn't wanted to be told to do so.

Riza paused and stared at the object.

-

"It's a pineapple."

"Yes."

"A pineapple."

"Yes."

"Why a pineapple?"

Roy smiled belatedly. "I thought it would make a good present."

"Well," Riza took the pineapple out of the paper bag, "I suppose I could have it with some ice cream. Or chocolate."

"Chocolate makes it taste bitter you know." Roy bent down to pet Hayate as the dog ate it's lunch.

"Very well, I'll have it with some ice cream. And, um..." she put the pineapple back in the bag and looked at it. "Thank you for the gift sir. I appreciate it." She set the bag down on her desk."I need to get lunch. Good day sir." She saluted a goodbye and left the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

"Well," Roy glanced at Black Hayate, still kneeling down, "maybe I should have given her the flowers."

-

* * *

**OMAKE**

**- **

"Hey kid, what's that you're hiding." The older homunculus glared lazily at the latest addition to their family.

"Uh-" The younger, both as a homunculus and by looks, paused, looking guilty.

"Well, what is it." He glared more strongly, his junior shifting.

"Well, uh... I decided to get you a present." The purple eyes disappeared as the kid grinned and proudly offered a spiky leafed plant up for inspection.

"Huh?" An eyebrow quirked as the fruit was picked up by the leaves and peered at. "What is it?"

"A pineapple for you, Envy."

"Why, Wrath why? Why this?" Envy looked exasperated at the happily smiling, heel rocking homunculus as he held the pineapple as if it were a weapon.

"Because I thought you liked them. I mean, your hair is like the leaves and people say you are what you eat..." He grinned again but was just about to flee when Envy's expression suddenly changed.

He was about to shield his head with his arms as the puzzlement changed to a maniacal grin.

Envy burst out laughing. "Don't be ridiculous. Feed it to Gluttony. I don't like them at all. And," he tossed the fruit back, "learn what a pineapple means before you go around giving them to people."


	19. Toenail clippings

**Title:** Toenail clippings

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** General, Silly  
**Rating:** PG  
**Warning: **ROFL syndrome, minor swearing, very minor yaoi themes

Won a honourable mention in a fanfiction contest.

* * *

"Roy? Roy! ROY!" Ed's voice and automail leg echoed thunderously down wooden stairs.

A door banged open with almost enough raucous force to rival the shouting, nearly audible over it.

"_ROY!_" A dripping wet blonde, the towel halfway to being soaked, stood in front of the slightly surprised older man.  
"Do you have to cut your nails in the bathroom?" A hand was thrust under his nose, a bunch of toenail clippings in the centre of the palm.  
Roy looked mildly at the clippings. "I was under the impression that if one clipped their nails in some place other than the bathroom it was considered unhygienic."

"I was getting out of the shower and it _stabbed_ me! I had to pull it out! And be glad it was my flesh foot or Winry would've clobbered you for screwing her work up! Do you know what kind of damage it'd do to it?" Ed dropped his handful into the open book Roy was holding. "I'd be unable to walk!" Ed waved his arm to emphasise his point before the towel slipped dangerously and he had to grab it. "Now excuse me. I need to get dressed." He made to stalk back to the bathroom before Roy called him back.

"Wait a second Ed, come back here." Roy placed the book on the table beside him, tipping the extricated clippings on top of it.

"What do you want bastard? And no, I'm not in the mood." Ed scowled back at the man he was _usually_ civil to.

"Give me your foot." The blonde hitched his towel higher and grumpily sat down, lifting his right foot up for inspection. The older man hitched the leg higher so he could look at it easier. Ed squeaked in protest at this odd angle.

Roy finished his inspection by shifting his gaze to Ed's face.  
"You have cut your nails within the last week. I know this," he dropped the foot he was holding, letting Ed deal with whether it crashed to the floor or not, "because _I_ was stabbed in the foot by one of your clippings. You may have half the number of nails to cut but they're still as lethal as anyone else's." He nudged Ed's other foot with his slipper and laid his hand on Ed's shoulder.

"Fine. I'll put mine in the rubbish after I cut them." The blonde shrugged the hand off his shoulder while getting up from the chair. "Just as long as you do the same. I _really_ wouldn't want to be in your shoes if I have to explain to Winry that my foot wasn't functioning because a superior officer's toenail got stuck in it."


	20. vade mecum

**Title:** Vade mecum

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** General  
**Rating:** G  
**Theme:** October 27 2006, vade mecum  
**Warnings:** If you haven't seen Fullmetal alchemist at all then be warned.

Note: vade mecum: a book or other thing that one regularly carries about.

* * *

It is battered and worn, pages stuffed in and torn out, pen scratches everywhere. Bits of debris fall out as you read it, assorted notes and photos, train tickets, cards and pencil sketches, enveloped samples and discarded letters.  
Pages are filled with chicken scrawl, smudged every way imaginable.  
Hardly legible, not even coherent; it is a collection of paragraphs about a town and this city and a small community in the middle of nowhere. 

Lists of expenses, extensive directions to a location; all these details might nag someone knowledgeable that this book is not an ordinary travel journal but something else.  
All doubts are turned aside though when you turn to the next page, a description of a lovely town nestled in the foothills of a mountain range greeting your eyes, a postcard and a letter stuffed in the page after it.

It's a travel journal, the story of someone's travels written down for the world to read.  
The story it tells is haphazard, told in excruciating detail in places, sparse in others, a miscellany mixed in with it.

And it starts with a not so likely beginning.

"On the eleventh of October, Continental year 1910, when I was eleven and my brother ten, we set out on a journey to explore the world and to find what we wanted most...


	21. Progression

**Title:** Progression

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** Romantic  
**Rating:** G

Well, this is an interesting little piece. It has no set pairing, it can just about be in any fandom. Though I did write this with the intent of the FMA one, so here it is.  
Please feel free to leave a review saying who you think it is. I personally think it can only suit deviant pairings and maybe Royai as well. (Though I do love the notion of it being AlRiza)

* * *

It started with words. Nice simple, kind ones. Ones that no-one noticed aside from them.  
Then there was contact: fluttering touches, feather kisses.

It grew from there and progressed onwards, changing and developing.  
Words and touches, kisses and embraces. Love.

And it was only them that knew it, the arcane knowledge of their love and how it grew.


	22. Sheep

**Title:** Sheep

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** Silly  
**Rating:** G  
**Theme:** November 2 2006, animal presence.

* * *

Al had missed the sounds of cows lowing the distance and sheep staring complacently while they were herded past. They were all associated with Rismbool, the home that he and his brother had left a long time ago and were now returning to.  
He had missed them, and looked forward to experiencing them again, but THIS was a bit too much.

Alphonse looked the sheep calmly in the eye.

"Mr. Sheep, if you do not desist licking me, I shall have to call for help, much to the detriment of my current situation."

The sheep murred back in response and continued to nudge and lick his intact arm.

"I am warning you Mr. Sheep, I am not happy." Al's statement was meant to threaten, but the tone of voice he used did nothing to deter the ocine animal.

"Mr. Sheep, this is your last warning!" Al's voice rose, in both pitch and volume. The sheep stopped and stared at him in response, giving a final lick and nudge before murring and returning to converse with it's companions.  
Al sighed gratefully and returned to his thoughts before being interrupted by a nudging and slurping arising from the back of his head.

"Mr. Sheep! I just told your companion to stop that!"


	23. Marmite

**Title:** Marmite

**Style: **Ficlet  
**Genre:** General, Romantic  
**Rating:** PG  
**Extra: **Includes bonus omake!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any rights to any type of yeast spread, although I have a jar of marmite that no-one else is to touch in the larder.

There's a bit of back story to this. Mostly about how my mum absolutely abhors the yeast spread called 'Marmite' while my dad likes it, and how my mum likes fish paste of some description and how my dad hates it.  
Thought I'd kind of do the same with Roy and Ed... Only, it's Royai somehow. (I admit that it had something to do with the fact I couldn't just have her disappearing on me.) So, Roy and Riza hate it, Ed loves it.

And the omake is just ripping off one of the TV ads that Marmite has.

* * *

The person Roy wasn't expecting to see in his hospital room was Ed, but the young alchemist trailed in behind Hawkeye anyway. More like sauntered but all Mustang really observed was that he walked in behind Hawkeye and stood at the foot of the bed grinning.

"What're you in here for Colonel?"

Roy glowered at his subordinate before gracing him with an answer.  
"Pneumonia. Nothing serious just a bit of- Hey! What are you doing!"

Ed had walked to one side of the bed and was looking at the tray deposited on the bedside table.  
"They served lunch already?"

Hawkeye turned around from her task of reading Roy's charts to face the blonde adolescent.  
"Lunch gets served at eleven thirty. That's breakfast," she said, returning back to her task.

"What is this black stuff anyway?"  
Roy cringed as Ed stuck his finger in it and tasted it.  
"Mmm, this is actually quite good." He waved his finger about before sticking it back in his mouth to suck the rest off.  
Roy shuddered at the sight, Ed totally oblivious to the motion.

"Hey, why did you leave it behind?" Edward's genius brain slowly latched onto the most important question concerning the toast.

"He doesn't like it," Hawkeye answered, sitting down on the other side of Roy, reading some sort of document.

"It's vile, disgusting, salty and black! I don't know how you can like it!"

Ed blinked at Roy's outburst.  
"You won't eat it?"

"How can I? It's a putrid salty goop!"  
Roy shuddered with repulsion at the thought of eating it, his light green hospital gown only accentuating the slight tremor.

"How can you not eat it? It's good."

Roy just shuddered again in response.

"He won't eat it, whatever you do. Even though it's got at least fifteen percent of half a dozen minerals and vitamins, even though it's good for him," Hawkeye noted, the last bit of her remark making Ed blink in realisation.

"Sooo... You drank the milk Colonel?"

"'Course I did Fullmetal, what do you think I am? A milk detesting midget?"

Ed ignored the last comment and looked hungrily at the two slices of toast.

"You don't mind if I eat them then?"

"Go ahead Fullmetal, it isn't as if Riza will eat it either."

Riza gaped at Roy, who was smiling smugly while Ed dug into the yeast spread covered toast.

-

* * *

**OMAKE**

**-**

"It's not enough, it doesn't cover anything." Ed whined.

"Stop complaining, it's what we've got."

"It isn't large enough!"

"It just came like that, there's no changing it," Roy snapped at his subordinates complaining.

"Can't I have another one then?"

"I suppose, here." Roy dropped another serve of the yeast spread into Edward's waiting hand, watching as the adolescent voraciously spread it over his toast.


	24. Xingese oranges

**Title:** Xingese oranges

**Style: **Ficlet  
**Genre:** General, Romantic  
**Rating:** PG  
**Warning:** Might contain spoliers for ep 25+ and equivalent manga, plus manga chapters 55+

This was written as a response to shadowsinfire's sister's challenge to me. Was to be Gracia-centric with a helping of Ling/Ranfuan, pre or post stone incident. I chose post, and I decided to do this thing.

* * *

Markets.

Gracia Hughes both enjoyed and loathed them. Loved them for the variety they offered, but loathed them for the headaches it caused. She was grateful that Schieska took care of Elysia when she went to the market, otherwise she might get even more of a headache chasing after her darling daughter.

She stopped at a fruit stall, weighing up the apples and pears. They were a bit off, maybe she would get some of the oranges or plums, they were in season in the south and they were almost the same price as the apples and pears.

"The oranges should be good. They're from Xing." A voice came up behind her, scaring her slightly.

"Really?" She picked one of them up before turning to face the speaker.

He was smiling broadly, and the tilt to his eyes told her that he did know what he was talking about as he was from Xing himself.

"Are they sweet ones?"

"We export only the best." He grinned, eyes not quite closed. It made him look a bit creepy, Gracia thought, but she hadn't seen that many people from Xing had she?

"I'll take you word for it then." She attracted the stall's owner and paid for a dozen, patiently listening to their spiel about how Xing oranges were only the best.

The Xing man also paid for a few and left when she did, following her.

"Do you mind?" She turned to him, slightly anxious about him following her.

"Oh, I do beg your pardon. Am I making you nervous?" His face seemed to be locked in a perpetual smile, though his eyes remained open to look at her. "I was only looking for similar company. I seem to have lost my travelling partners." He started peeling one of his oranges, managing to get it off in one piece.

"You lost them? How did you manage that?" Gracia stopped for vegetables; carrots, fresh beans and new potatoes.

"Oh, I suppose I went off and did my own thing and they gave up on me." They continued walking through the market, Gracia getting all her groceries and the Xing man slowly eating his orange.

"Do you know," he started as Gracia was looking at buying a pie for dinner, "in Xing, we often name hairstyles after food. We have ones called meatball, pork bun. It seems silly, but they look exactly like their names."

"Do they have any named after fruits?" She decided not to get one, she would make a casserole instead when she got home.

"A few, no oranges though." He tossed the remainder of his fruit's skin to the ground and started peeling another one. "Tell me, do you think a singular bun at the back of the head should be called a pork bun or an orange?"

Gracia paused, thinking for a moment. "An orange. Why?"

"It's just one of my companions had a hairstyle like that and she insisted that it be called a pork bun hairstyle. I always insisted it looked more like an orange to me. I'll be able to say that other people agree with me when we meet again." His eyes snapped shut as he grinned. "I'll be in the right this time." His smile seemed less creepy when he had his eyes totally shut.

"I'm sorry, I've got to go now." The Xingese man interrupted as they walked to another stall, Gracia almost finished with her groceries.

"Are you going to try finding your companions? I hope you find the one with the orange hairstyle." She smiled back.

"Maybe. Maybe she'll like my discoveries." He turned his back to her, grinning with his eyes open again and tossing his last orange backwards and forwards, squashing it to a pulp as he stepped into an alleyway.


	25. Tears that will never dry

**Title:** Tears that will never dry

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** Angst  
**Rating:** PG  
**Theme:** November 3 2006, my pillow won't tell me where he has gone.

* * *

They were cold, lonely nights.  
Nights where his absence was a cold heavy presence, lead on her head and heart.

Wind whistles through the forge's chimney, a lone plaintive sound mirroring the echo in her own heart.

He was gone again. Gone on another mission to find his brother and to bring him back. Gone on another of one of those useless missions.  
Or at least, that was what everyone else had told him, her.

-

Metal glints in stray moonlight, grotesque forms prototypes for increased movement, speed, malleability, strength. Useless prosthetics that have no use, simply spare arms and legs.

Winry rolls over, hooking her own flesh arm under her pillow, resting her head on both.  
His presence was absent, the other's sparing.  
She enjoyed the presence of one, but yearned the other.

-

Burning eyes are pressed into fresh smelling cotton. Was it always to be like this? Effectively losing both of the ones she loved?  
She blinks into her pillow; questions bounding through her head, whispered past the fibres.

"Where are you? Will you come back to me? Or will you come back for him?"  
Nothing stirs, nothing replies to her questions.

Her tears burn through the pillow, wet questions that will never dry.


	26. Almost the fairytale

**Title:** Almost the fairy tale

**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre:** General, Romantic  
**Rating:** PG  
**Theme:** October 23 2006, fairy tale ending.

* * *

It was perfect, from the food to the way the lovers looked into each others eyes. Who could have asked for a better wedding?

Friends and some family gathered up to express their happiness for the newly wed couple, each leaving a gift as a show of gratitude for being invited. The couple just nodded and accepted each one, setting each aside to be put to use later.

The woman sighed as the last guest walked away, setting the block of knives down. Her husband wrapped his arm around her, silently comforting her. She leaned into it, her slender frame a contrast to his burliness.

"It's come true hasn't it?"

"You mean our dream of being together? Yes, it has." He wrapped his other arm around her, cradling her in his bulk.

She closed her eyes, murmuring, "There's just one thing more to make this perfect..." She pushed herself further into his embrace, supported only by his arms.

"Come. We'll make that child of your dreams." With that he lifted her, his dear Izumi, into their house.


	27. Always there

**Title:** Always there

**Style:** Drabble  
**Genre:** Non-romantic fluff  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Theme:** November 28 1006, father figure  
**Warning:** It's _almost_ Roy/Ed/Al, but it's not and sure wasn't written as that.

* * *

He was there for them and they never forgot it. He made sure they never forgot.

Every birthday celebration they had, he attended; every occassion they landed in hospital, he visited; every time either one of them had problems with a girlfriend, he was there to give advice.

Whenever Hawkeye threatened to shoot their balls off, Roy was there to defend them. When he got blamed for something, they were his back up.

They were a dysfunctional family that wasn't related, although they were closer than most.

They grew used to his familial presence, so used in fact, that when he wasn't there, they both missed that concerned gaze and ghost of a hand pulling the blankets closer.


	28. A misaligned piece

**Title:** A misaligned piece

**Style:** Ficlet  
**Genre:** Angst  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warning:** Squint and tilt your head sideways, you might find some Winry/Rose. You might also find implied Elricest and/or RoyEd, AlRiza.

* * *

She was happy for them, she truly was. Though they were living wretchedly, she was certain they were happy.  
It was the reason they were living like that anyway.

And it wasn't exactly if she were alone and had no-one to comfort her, because _she_ was there too, so it wasn't really loneliness that made her cry sometimes but the fact that there was a part of her missing.  
It was because they were a part of her, what made her unique and herself.

They were still there, just not a part of her and part of someone else.  
Oh, she still loved them but the fact they didn't love her back equal...

There was something wrong in that equivalency.

There weren't enough parts to make a whole and it made her head (and heart) hurt trying to figure out how. She wasn't missing any pieces and she wasn't ignoring any was she?

"Winry? There's tea and cake waiting for you." A pink and umber head poked past the workshop door.

"I'm coming!" She tossed the piece she was working on carelessly to the work bench, letting it roll alongside the others as she stripped her hands of their work gloves.

It fell alongside another, almost connecting, as she walked out the door to take tea.  
All it needed was a simple twist... and then it would fit in with the rest.


	29. Reaching hands

**Title:** Reaching hands

**Style:** Drabble  
**Genre:** General, supernatural  
**Rating:** PG  
**Theme:** November 26 2006, a thinking woman sleeps with monsters  
**Warning:** Slight spoilers as to what Izumi's experienced.

* * *

Every night they came, horrendous visions of what lay beyond, in that dark space filled with void.

It was no lovely sight to fall asleep to, though if there were any other she would have gladly chosen it. It reminds her of what she has done and that at least she is alive. Leaves many things behind to ponder over, to regret.

Regret is a good thing in her opinion, keeps her humble and sane. Lets her fall asleep at night, her nerves frayed and heavy.  
Lets her sleep and dream again of dark hands reaching out and wanting, wanting as badly as she does.


	30. Life is beautiful

Title: Life is beautiful

Style: Drabble  
Genre: Angst  
Rating: PG  
Word count: 100 (unless you count the dash like the editor does)

Dedicated to Arathe and Fae Elric for their wonderful alter!Roy writings.

* * *

Life is beautiful and fragile, like butterfly wings.  
Push it too far and it will break, fluttering down to the floor in pieces; shattered beyond recognition.

-

One touch, that is all it took. A single brush, an accidental caress; and he broke.  
A thousand shards: each one dripping down silver from his eyes, each one sticking in his throat. Each and every single shard ripping and tearing his soul apart.

A gloved hand is frozen, cotton tipped fingers still reaching out seeking something broken, pushed too far by darkness, its pale copy.

One boy, broken by fingers of a shadow.

* * *

This is an alter!Roy drabble. Though I personally can't figure if the person who touched Ed is the alter!Roy or if it is Roy and Ed's just breaking over alter!Roy.


	31. Apples for fortune

**Title:** Apples for fortune

**Style:** Ficlet  
**Genre:** General, slightly romantic, supernatural  
**Rating:** PG

**Note:** Not written for a theme, but kind of manipulated to one.  
The superstitions and rituals listed here are assorted ones that I've read and found. Some are old, old ones, some are more Wiccan in nature.  
The apple one described here is a bit more complicated than I've described it. A young un-wed woman is supposed to peel an apple on a certain day of the year, taking care to make sure it's in one piece. She then throws it over her shoulder and whatever letter it forms will be the first letter of her husband-to-be's name.

* * *

One wouldn't think Riza Hawkeye, woman of the modern day, had any insensibilities.

However, every year when apples come into season, her fruit bowl is constantly overflowing with succulent fruit and the scent of baked apple constantly lingering in the air.  
She peels the fruits carefully, knife slowly travelling its way around and around before a single spiralling peel is thrown over her shoulder and peeked at before moving onto the next one, the process repeated.

Then, when the longest day of summer rolled around, worn socks were gathered up and sewn together; a sock doll the end product. This end product soon tossed up into the roof space, the previous year's doll retrieved and burnt in the fireplace along with other odds and ends.

There are many other things, like leaving a saucer of milk out on top of the counter, out of Black Hayate's reach every night. Collecting leaves every autumn, eggshells thoroughly crushed before being disposed of, sneezing habitually to the right, always picking up a fallen pencil and greeting Black Hayate every time she left him at home.

Little things that weren't really superstitious, just odd and maybe a bit old-fashioned.

But she always stopped peeling those apples whenever that peel thrown over her shoulder didn't fall in a spiral.


	32. Grateful adoption

**Title:** Grateful adoption

**Style:** Ficlet  
**Genre:** General, sentimental  
**Rating:** G  
**Warning:** Contains slight, end of series spoilers.

* * *

The dog yapped and barked, slipping and scudding as it raced after the children. They shrieked and yelled when it came close to their heels, jumping away quickly from the non-existent threat posed.  
Mothers looked on, gazing out of kitchen windows or from doorways, calling out occasionally to call one in to do chore or shooing one back into the fray.

From a distance she smiled warmly, finding their rough and tumble amusing. Found it entrancing to watch and was bound to her window by their antics, hesitant to leave and to get on with work.  
She drew the window open further, allowing the late summer breeze to play with her hair; throwing it this way and that over her shoulders.  
Hollow thwocking in the distance alerted her to the fact she should be present at something else. Her fingers were raised to her lips, a shrieking whistle calling out in the distance.  
The dog yapped loudly as it slid to a halt and tried to reverse its direction, heading back to its owner and following the whistle back home.

She left her post at the window, abandoning the vision of children to pick up the dog, holding its wriggling form in her arms as she travelled through to her husband.  
A smile was passed between them as she set down the hyperactive puppy, letting it scramble to the freshly scraped bone set out for it.

"He enjoy being outside?" he questioned lowly, knife steady as ever in his hands.

"Yes, he enjoyed playing with the children," there was a wistful tone on her voice as she set about gathering equipment and ingredients for cooking their meal.

"He's an obedient little pup, I think we did good by taking him off Ferdan's hands," he stoically nodded toward the puppy, enthusiastically chewing and gnawing at its treat. "No replacement, but you've got things to look after."

She smiled gratefully back at him as she set to shopping carrots.  
"I suppose," the diced vegetables in question were tossed into a bowl, "But it's no different from any other time."

She set the knife aside, kneeling down to rub her pet behind it's ears as she called out sternly,  
"ALPHONSE! SET THE TABLE NOW!"

Her husband just nodded and smiled to himself, knowing that they did good adopting the little puppy.


	33. Hands through hair

**Title:** Hands through hair

**Style:** Drabble  
**Genre:** Romance  
**Rating:** PG  
**Wordcount:** 100  
**Warning:** RoyEd ship ahead!

Written for Stae (otherwise known as Fae Elric) after she commented on some ideas I had.

* * *

"Stoppit bastard! You're getting soot all over my hair!" Ed swatted Roy's hands away from his golden locks, flapping uselessly with his right hand.

"I never took you for the vain type, Edward." Roy raised his hands in the air in a defensive gesture, dodging the automail hand, "And besides, I'm wearing gloves."

"Your hands are still filthy, pervert." This comment was shot from underneath those goldenrod bangs rather murderously.

"Only because of you." A kiss landed beneath those bangs, killing that glare.  
As fingers thread through golden hair, ghosting soot over fine strands, a hairbrush clatters to the floor.


	34. Metal reacts

**Title:** Metal reacts

**Style:** Drabble  
**Genre:** Romance?  
**Rating:** PG  
**Theme:** 6 November 2006, 'come with me, under my coat'

* * *

Metal reacts. To acid, water and oxygen.  
Forming salt and water, hydroxides, oxides.

Those are the scientific, chemical reactions that metal experiences.

It turns to liquid at high temperatures and up until that moment, becomes soft and malleable; except in the case of mercury which is in a liquid state at room temperature.  
It's physical properties are ductility, conductivity of heat and electricity, strength, it's shiny and often grey.

Those are the other properties that metal has.

All of these are scientific fact, proven over and over. There is no need to further explore these properties unless an anomaly appears.  
This is what we know, what we know for certain.

But what we don't is how metal reacts to other things, or what it's properties are when exposed to other things, what happens when it's in the presence of something else.  
Like love, opposition, memories.  
But do these really react with metal?

I think they do. Ever since this arm was fabricated, ever since my leg needed oiling, I have believed all of this.  
I do not believe in a god, nor do I see any reason to. You cannot see, cannot feel, cannot experience them.  
I still believe that metal can be changed by these non-physical elements. You feel them, you can experience and you can see.

I forever appreciate, forever love, the person who made my arm, my leg. It's because she loves me too, that they are so strong and able to hold these promises I've made.  
I bring her work wherever I go, safely tucked away, hidden within the sleeve of my coat.


	35. Road onwards

**Title:** Road onwards

**Style:** One-shot  
**Genre:** General, fable  
**Rating:** G  
**Theme:** 21 November 2006, ' 夢ぢには / yumeji ni wa / on the path of dreams'

* * *

Over two hundred years ago there was a community in the middle of nowhere, nestled after the rocky foothills of a far off mountain range. There was a forest between them and the mountains, a river cleaving its way through bedrock and pre-historic glacier carrying boulders and life giving water down its bed.  
There were the mountains, a forest, a river and then fields. Beyond the fields, more grass and sun saturated land as far as the eye could see.  
Maybe if you travelled far enough you might reach another congregation of farms, but that was far, far off. It was a much better choice to go to town that couldn't quite be said to be in the foothills nor quite a town, though that was the only way one could describe it and its location.

Its name was Rismbool. There were no roads, no path, no direction that would assure you of a destination. There was only that river, the forest on its rocky banks.

A hundred years ago, paths had been worn into the ground between farms for years, people trading with others in this small community.  
They were growing and with ever plentiful crops they needed somewhere for the surplus corn, wheat and milk to go to.  
A train and a road soon ploughed through the tiny community, somewhere near the middle of the far sprawled farms and houses.

Fifty years ago a house was built on the top of a small hillock, a sapling planted next to it. A young family lived in it, an incredibly small family with a single daughter and no son.  
They had little land, the small acreage leased out to their neighbour, investments out of town supplying them with money.

Twenty years ago that lone daughter inherited that small house, married to a well studied man out of Western City. He had fallen in love with the town and her on a visit and they rejoiced in the quiet blessing of sun and small interests piled up in Central and other cities.

Eighteen years ago they had a son. A year after, they had another.  
When their first son had celebrated his third birthday, that well studied man left overnight; leaving that lone daughter, now a lone woman, with two sons.

Ten years ago, that lone woman died, leaving two sons left in the care of their best friend and her grandmother.

Eight years ago, they left that small community; one brother clad in metal, the other weighed down with unnatural limbs.  
They left one night, that house on the hill burning, their footsteps creating shadows in the dust. They left as any other person would leave, down that path to the station that had popped into existence a bare hundred years previous.  
The main road, the road that lead out and into the tiny community.

That was what lead them on their path onwards. The one lone road out of their home.  
Onwards, not back as the river does.


	36. They are different but the same

**Title**: They are different but the same

**Style**: Drabble  
**Genre**: Introspective  
**Rating**: PG  
**Theme**: November 07, 2006, 'さしむかふ心 / sashimukau kokoro / the heart facing mine'  
**Warning**: RoyEd ship ahead!

* * *

You only notice their differences when they stand up.

One is short but fair and golden, bursting with pride and youth.  
The other is taller, dark and broody, full of self confidence that only comes with age.

And you question why they are similar, why they are together, why they are almost the same.

The question you ask though is:  
What lies on your heart? What makes it heavy?

And they both reply the same:  
Deaths, promises I've made, promises I've yet to keep and the guilt for what I've done.

They give another response a moment later, as they give another answer to the question: What lies heavily on your heart?

My love for him, they say, eyes closed as they think, as they think of their counterpart they are devoted to with all their heart..

And with this question you know why they are together and why they love the other.  
Because, when they sit down again they are the same, their hearts beating in the same place.


	37. Wrong pants

**Title**: Wrong pants

**Style**: Drabble  
**Genre**: Humour  
**Rating**: PG +  
**Warning**: RoyEd ship ahead!

Silly little thing that popped into my head while I was putting my pyjamas on in the dark.

* * *

"I can't put my pants on in the dark!" Ed whined, sounds of clothing jostling caused by his attempts to despite his statement.

"Turn the light on then," a voice replied lazily, turning over in half-consciousness.

"You lazy bastard, you turn a light on! There are two bedside lamps, one switch, a torch and one ignition glove all within easy reach." There was a patch of swearing as the speaker took a fall, probably on some sort of jetsam littered around the room.

A torch was switched on, the light shining dully underneath covers so as to not blind the user.

"I think I can see the problem Ed," the dry voice held a tone of amusement as the torchlight flickered over the sheets, illuminating the irritated adolescent.

"You're trying to put my pants on."


	38. Feathers and water

**Title**: Feathers and Water

**Style**: Ficlet  
**Genre**: Romantic  
**Rating**: PG

* * *

Sig sighed, tracing his calloused fingers tips over his wife's hand. She stirred slightly, turning closer to him in her sleep.  
Her skin was so soft, soft as the first day he had met her as she quarrelled with his dad over prices of meat. He had rushed to his father's defence, gently restraining the shrewish woman by the wrists, her skin coming in contact with his.  
She had thrown him them, letting him slam to the ground in a most absurd manner, but there had been a certain grace to it as well, a smooth movement that was like oil on an ironstone.

Wasn't there a diction on how women were meant to be that went like that?  
Softness, grace, compliance, forgiveness?

He snorted, a gruff sound made in the back of his throat.

His Izumi was far from compliant, since that moment she had thrown him to his back he had been sure of that. She constantly pushed the boundaries of what was acceptable, what was possible. Always and forever, he was sure of that.  
The very fact she was alive now was a testament to the fact she had never complied to anything, even the natural laws of the world.

But forgiveness… Now that was something he wasn't sure about.  
There were many things she had forgiven; his initial gruffness with her, the Elric brothers' mistakes and her own sin.  
But there were many other things she had never forgiven; like Edward joining the military, her teacher and her own terrible mistake.

He pondered for a while, thoughts tumbling over while his wife slept; her breath a slow rhythm, her pulse matching underneath her smooth skin. Eventually he stopped wondering, his own grunty breaths joining his wife's in a slow rhythm as they slept.


	39. I leave you now

**Title: **I leave you now

**Character/Pairing:** Izumi, Dante. Reference to Sig  
**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre: **General, backstory  
**Rating: **PG  
**Theme: **December 17 2006, 'Cool/ Now you call me by my new last name'  
**Spoilers:** For the middle of the anime?

* * *

"Teacher Dante?" A dark haired woman cautiously walked into the study, surveying the richly furnished room before heading towards the elderly lady sitting at the desk.

"Ah, you're back from the market already?" The kindly lady pushed what she was working on to the side. "How was it?"

"Fine." The woman stood silently.

"You saw that butcher boy again, didn't you Izumi? You know I don't approve of fraternization with the townspeople."

Izumi sighed, her shoulders sagging and then straightening again.  
"You know how I stand with your teachings; how I believe that alcehmy is not to be hidden away and used by a few exclusive people, that it should be shared and that all people should be able to understand it.  
You also know how I express dislike towards your similar atittude on how alchemists should live; segregated from the rest of society." Izumi took a deep breath, readying her self for the next part.

"I have made the decision to remove myself as an apprentice to you; I wish to share my alchemy with the people and make it available for those who do not understand it," and, in a lower voice she added, "I wish to marry that 'butcher boy', Sig Curtis."

The elderly woman sharpened her gaze, hands lightly resting against each other.  
"Very well then Izumi 'Curtis', you may leave. Being a commoner you have no place in this house now." Her tone was cold as she dismissed her former apprentice, swiveling her chair and turning her back as the last few words left her mouth.

"Very well then." A cold gaze was directed at the tall back of the chair, hair and clothes swishing as she turned her back to leave the room.


	40. I am Greedling

**Title: **I am Greedling

**Character/Pairing:** Ling, Greed  
**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre: **Dark  
**Rating: **PG  
**Theme: **December 28, 2006 'Being Boring/ I never dreamt that I would get to be the creature that I always meant to be'  
**Spoilers: **For the second Greed (manga only)

* * *

He flexed his fingers, joints crackling as blood rushed and pounded past his ears.  
It was a good feeling this, one of supreme power and ability.

He frowned, his habitual smile dropping and turning on it's head.  
It was still there, that nagging feeling of inconceivable want at the base of his sternum. His frown deepened as it burned, consuming more and more of his body, flaring up and down.

"Huh?"  
_'Just because you've finally gotten what _you _want, doesn't mean _we _have no need for anything. Quite the contrary in fact.'_

That slippery voice wound it's way around his burning body, cooling it, tempering it's need but not quite extinguishing it.

_'We _have _to have everything.'_

His sly grin returned, washing up his face as he considered the prospect of everything in his grasp, everything in his power.  
A tongue flicked out to lick at the corner of his mouth, eyes tilting in a dangerous smile.

"I think I'll like this."


	41. Wafting smoke

**Title: **Wafting smoke

**Character/Pairing: **Roy/Riza, past Roy/Ed  
**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre: **Dark/Romance  
**Rating: **PG  
**Spoilers: **Maybe the movie?  
**Theme:** July 24 [2007** -** You are second hand smoke.

* * *

It is disconcerting when he gets like this, staring through you. The gaze is haunting and empty, as if you are nothing, a figment of his imagination.  
He looks beyond auburn coloured eyes; his fingertips still curling gently against your cheek. Soft, wheaten hair tumbles loose from its pins, a pale imitation of spun gold, a faded memory of what could have been.  
It hurts knowing who he is seeing in your place. Whom he is imagining standing there, smiling up at him, happy that they're together at last.

Soft words remind him of who you are, who you will never be.

_Sir? I'm here._


	42. Xingian whispers

**Title: **Xingian whispers

**Character/Pairing:** Roy Mustang, Roy's grandmother  
**Style: **Ficlet  
**Genre: **Gen  
**Rating: **PG  
**Spoilers: **None  
**Theme: **May 24 - blue, like an orange  
**Notes:** The theme interpretation on this is a bit weird, but it's based off how the uniforms of the Amestrian military are blue and how mandarins (the fruit) must be Xingese in the FMA universe.

* * *

Colonel Roy Mustang smoothed the rich blue of his uniform, pressing his hands nervously against the heavy fabric as he petted away insubstantial wrinkles. He wiped his hands down in a final motion before placing one on top of the two letters on his desk. He scanned over the characters briefly before hastily folding it up, stuffing it back into the envelope it had arrived in before turning his attention to the remaining letter.  
It was an official inquiry into his unit, requesting extensive background information on the higher ranked members including himself.

Mustang gritted his teeth together as he read the form over for the fifteenth time since it had been deposited on his desk. The request was going to make things a lot more difficult and not just in terms of finding the information but in terms of what the content was.  
Especially in the case of his information.

He sighed, withdrawing the first letter from its envelope. Xingian characters flowed down the page, a few Amestrian words thrown in where it was obvious the author couldn't find a suitable replacement. It would have made no sense to someone if they only knew the language academically but a fluent speaker would be able to pick up on the fact it was addressed to her grandson and she wished he would see her when summer came around.  
Fluency was not required, however, to see that the letter was addressed to Roy.

Showing visible signs of irritation, Mustang wished, for the sixteenth time that morning, that his grandmother had not been a prisoner of war from Xing. The minor childhood annoyance of having to learn another language was nothing compared to the present one of being labelled a sympathiser or spy.  
And he was sure that a least one of his cousins would be in the Xingese forces, furthering the chances of being discharged on grounds of suspected espionage. He could even be extradited to Xing, where he would be labelled as a spy for the Amestrian government having willingly signed up and become an alchemist.

All those options were possible if the commanding officers looking over his information decided that, despite having married an Amestrian and being fully assimilated, Xue Xian Carter had instilled a sense of Xingian loyalty into her children and grandchildren.  
Perhaps the only thing working in his favour was that there were hardly any Xingian contacts in the city or even in Amestris itself. Its borders were closely monitored and suspicious visitors screened. There was hardly any chance that he would be able to pass on information he might have gathered.  
Being labelled a sympathiser was less easily dodged.

Any kind of statement or action that could be interpreted as support for the Eastern country would endanger his status as a colonel in the blue-uniformed army of Amestris. His hard-earned rank could disappear in a flurry of paperwork and whispered conversations amongst generals.  
It would be so easy, the slightest murmur of disagreement against the Amestrian regime and he would be forever labelled as a sympathiser. Categorised as such, the consequences would be as disastrous as if he were charged of espionage.  
He would no longer be considered for promotion and, most likely, he would be reassigned to some trivial outpost in the West, as far away as one could get from the Eastern frontier.

Colonel Roy Mustang exhaled heavily, setting his grandmother's letter down. He would have to write to her, in plain Amestrian, that he would be unable to visit her while his country was in conflict and perhaps a visit down to Central may be more suitable. While he could not reject his heritage, he could very well distance himself from the links he had to it.  
A pen was plucked from its position on his desk, twin pieces of stationery were taken from their drawer and one laid upon the information request. He would have to inform Hawkeye about the retrevial of files and delegate the appropriate tasks to the rest of his command. In the meantime he would have to write a letter acknowledging the request.  
After he had written the letter to his grandmother of course.


	43. Burn and crash, fall

**Title: **Burn and crash, fall

**Character/Pairing:** Edward and Alphonse, their house  
**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre: **General, Abstract  
**Rating: **G  
**Theme: **05. with every trailing plume

* * *

Burn and crash, crackle and sizzle.

It was burning, all evidence incinerating and being destroyed with every single lick of flame, every wave of crackling heat.  
Orange washing over everything, cleansing back to black and removing the white salt of tears, of failure. Removing everything that has stood there, except for memories and sin.

They walk away from it, trying to bury the former and resolve the latter. They will journey onwards, trying to accomplish this quest. One day they will come back and realise they can't lock away memories, they can't wash away sin; that all that has happened is a part of them.

This pile of ash– ­carbon is a part of them, just like we are part of the earth and we are a part of it.

And in the morning a single trail of smoke stands, soon whisked off by the wind towards it's destiny.


	44. For you, my lust

**Title: **For you, my lust

**Character/Pairing:** greed!Edward/lust!Winry  
**Style: **Ficlet  
**Genre: **Dark/romance  
**Rating: **R-13  
**Theme: **28. for his blonde-haired blue-eyed girl

* * *

It is for you that I do everything. You are the reason why I am here, why I will always be close to you. It is the attention you give me, the thrill and ecstasy we share together, that is why I am here by your side.

_It is you who I will love, forever and ever. You are my reason for being and why I have done what I have done. I love you, and love is what holds us together and shall do so until the end of time, because I will want you by my side eternally. _

These greedy, wanting words were whispered quietly, almost thought, their meaning falling on deaf ears. He disregarded her words, simply repeating his again and again, whispering them gently down her body; from ear to belly and then back, his words endlessly repeated into her half turned ear.  
She giggled at the sight of his dedication, curling fingers through his long hair and tugging him closer, bringing their lips together to crash and meet. Salty and bitter, almost dry, their kiss cycled through; rushed and heated, it's aim to claim entirely and then slow and languid, purposefully claiming the entirety.

Words were never spoken during that kiss, instead a single name was sighed long and low into sweat scented skin.

"Edward..."  
The name was drawn out and sighed in pleasure as kisses were plastered on top and around her head. It was uttered though and those lips were lifted away, golden eyes staring into hers as a replacement, the irises shining as only metal would allow, a seducing smile touching those lips instead of her flesh.  
Those lips soon touched something else that was hers, muttering it before returning to adoring her skin everywhere it could find it.

"Winry."  
Her flesh was being eaten, her purple eyes fluttering blue in her pleasure as the two tumbled together, gold upon black mixing together.


	45. Just one

**Title: **Just one

**Character/Pairing:** Ran Fuan, Ling Yao  
**Style: **Drabble  
**Genre: **General/Deathfic  
**Rating: **PG  
**Theme:** 5. the Chinese tombs

* * *

Stale air blows, making the lantern's flame flicker, its light wavering over the burial ledges on either side of the path as she walks. It is dusty and the air reeks with the sweetness of ancient incense and crumbling bones. The scent tempts her to sneeze, irritants coiling in her nose as she continues her progression along the aisles of bones.

Finally, she approaches her destination. It is a mostly empty recess, incomplete skeleton lying there with a jade token placed between two of its ribs. There is a shiny medallion, as yet untarnished, indicating the corpse's rank, lying on the small ledge in front of the burial. Nothing else graces the shelf, save for a small sand-filled pot, a few burnt out sticks of incense stuck inside it.

She disparagingly casts an eye over the meager offerings, lighting two sticks of incense before murmuring a simple prayer. Pausing, she says goodbye before her dark figure moves back down to the catacomb's entrance.

Ran Fuan is the only visitor to Ling Yao's remains.


	46. Rain, go away

**Title:** Rain, go away

**Character/Pairing:** Roy Mustang, mentions of Edward and Alphonse Elric  
**Style:** Ficlet  
**Genre:** General/Angst  
**Rating:** PG  
**Theme:** 08. love's a raven when it flies  
**Spoilers/Warnings:** Post-movie, vague slash undertones.

* * *

"It's raining."

The view from this window was glum, the usual grey-beige countenance of the street outside taking a slightly bluer tinge as the rain fell down heavily, pounding upon the roof and street and causing the street to suffer the cacophony of rain.  
It was depressing, the scene, the sound, everything.

Roy turned away from the window, turning back to reading his text.  
Things had changed since most of Central had been razed to the ground, that fatal contraption flying above it and destroying everything in its path.

Things had changed in so many different ways.

People had demanded a larger military force; the army was almost back to its former presence, one military personnel for every thirty civilians. The government still held power, although with such a large army it was struggling and more administrators were being hired by the day.

As alchemy had proved useful in the barrage, an institute had been set up, some former state alchemists becoming 'house' alchemists as it was opened up for alchemic research and small scale training.  
If there was any doubt that he had been pardoned of any past crimes against country or person, Roy was now teaching adolescents, of any gender the government had decided, various forms and applications of alchemy.

Some of them were hot-headed, brash and impatient and so very much like another teenager he had taken under his wing three years ago.

Roy sighed; Edward had looked very much like the responsible adult when he had decided that he'd be the one to close the gate on the other side. He hadn't been a child any longer, didn't need any protection from his former mentor and had taken the task of saving both worlds in hand.  
He had no place in the Elrics' lives anymore, even more so now when they didn't reside in Amestris.

The book closed heavily, the small whump nothing against the pounding rain. He had reached the end of their book and there would be no part two or advanced level for him. They'd gone, Ed's perseverance and Al's smile. Gone.

Roy turned again to look out the window, the rain pounding against grey cobblestones, falling from grey skies and past beige buildings. Glum and grey, almost featureless, nothing moving except for a bird, a raven or a blackbird, taking flight.  
Roy watched it, tracking it as it flew up over buildings and flew into the distance, vanishing.

"And he's gone."


End file.
